


Heartbreak

by themorewedance



Category: Call the Midwife, turnadette - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 21:56:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6924943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themorewedance/pseuds/themorewedance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shelagh struggles to cope with the news of not being able to conceive a child</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heartbreak

**Author's Note:**

> Hi CTM fandom! So it's been a long time since I've written any kind of fan fiction, and this is my first fic for Call the Midwife. I'm a new fan and I am completely in love with Shelagh/Turner's relationship. Here is a quick story (sorry I'm horrible with coming up with titles!) that I wanted to write! I have a few ideas for more chapters, but tbh I probably won't continue.  
> Hope you enjoy, feel free to leave comments :)

He had come home from a long day, mentally beat and exhausted. Patrick let himself into the house and as he stepped across the threshold, his senses were overtaken from the smell of his wife’s cooking. He had become so accustomed to coming home to the house smelling so amazing his mouth would water, but today there was something different. It wasn’t quite as alluring. He hung his coat and hat up, dropped his briefcase at the door, and let out a long sigh, leaving the long day’s work behind him. As he walked into the living room, he saw his son Timothy fervently working on homework at the table. He walked by his son and lightly tapped on Timothy’s shoulder and proceeded into the kitchen to greet Shelagh. She was staring at an oven timer with a fixed, deep gaze. He stood there for a few moment, waiting for her to regain focus, and just watched as his wife stared in a trance-like state. He couldn’t help but notice the look of pain in her face, and the redness of her eyes. It was obvious that she had been crying. Patrick immediately felt like he had been punched in the gut. Yesterday they had been given news that Shelagh would not be able to conceive a child, due to scarring from having tuberculosis. He knew Shelagh was devastated, and while she did her best to put on a brave face, it was obvious that it was torturing her. He so wished he could take away his poor wife’s pain somehow, and he longed for Shelagh to return to her normal self.  
“Mum’s been staring like that for 10 minutes now… is she alright?” Timothy was suddenly standing beside him, and whispering into Patrick’s ear. Patrick looked into his son’s worried eyes and quickly nodded his head. Timothy looked between his mum and dad for a few moments, wanting to say something, but eventually retreated back to the table with his head down.  
Patrick approached Shelagh and gently placed a kiss on her cheek. She was startled by the kiss and immediately regained focus on the real world. She forced a smile and gave Patrick’s hand a reassuring squeeze. She tried to tell him with her eyes that she was fine, that everything was okay, because honestly she didn’t know if she could choke out the words without crying again. Patrick got the hint and started making small talk. He ranted about his day at work, about the patients he had seen and taken care of. He kept the conversation going on his own, and Shelagh would nod in a approval every once in awhile. When the oven timer started to chime, Shelagh began to move towards the oven, but Patrick reached for her hand to stop her.  
“I’ll get this Love, you go sit down with Timothy at the table.” Shelagh smiled and obediently took her place at the table with her stepson. For the most part, the Turners ate dinner that night in silence. Neither Timothy nor Patrick could think of the right words that would comfort Shelagh. Timothy, being unaware of the situation altogether, tried his best fill the silence with anecdotes of school, and the Cubs, but when it was clear that his parents wanted silence, he too gave up trying to make conversation. He watched as his dad barely touched his food (which, to be honest, was not his mother’s best creation), moving the casserole around the plate into different formations, glancing over in Shelagh’s direction every so often with a look of concern. He watched as his mum stared straight at her plate, forcing herself periodically to take a bite of food. He wished he knew what was going on with his parents, but he knew it was best to just let it be. After they were all finished eating, Timothy stood up with his plate, and cheerfully thanked his mother for dinner.  
“I will never get tired of your amazing cooking. It’s much better than what Dad used to make!” She smiled and reached out for his hand, and whispered the first words she had uttered in hours. “Thank you Timothy.”  
A short while later, Timothy had gone up to bed, and Shelagh and Patrick were sitting in the living room, again, in silence. Patrick was filling out last minute paperwork for patients, and Shelagh was in a world of her own. Patrick let out a long yawn, and pushed his paperwork aside.  
“Why don’t we go on up to bed, Shelagh? We both need rest.” He stood and reached out for his wife’s hand, but she didn’t budge.  
“I’m not quite tired just yet, but you go ahead. I won’t be too much longer.” She struggled to find the words to say to him, and she desperately hoped he would agree to go without her. Patrick crouched down in front her and took her hands in his. He placed gentle kisses on each hand, before leaning forward and placing a kiss on her lips.  
“Goodnight, Love. Don’t stay up too late.” She weakly smiled and nodded her head, and Patrick left her to her thoughts.  
He wanted to stay awake for when Shelagh came up to bed, but the second he laid down, exhaustion overtook him and it was impossible not to drift off to sleep.  
\------------  
A small voice brought him back consciousness. He could tell without opening his eyes that it was his wife, probably saying a quick prayer before bed. He lay very still so she wouldn’t know he was awake, for he knew how much Shelagh treasured her nightly prayers. She whispered the phrases of the Lord’s Prayer, and concluded with “Amen,” but instead of climbing into bed next to him, she remained where she was, kneeling on the floor beside the bed, with her hands together on the mattress. She was quiet for a moment, and Patrick wanted to open his eyes to see what was going on, but she started to speak again, in a strained and desperate whisper.  
“Oh Lord, please… I need your guidance. I don’t understand why this is happening. I want so much to have a child of my own.” Patrick’s chest tightened, as he heard the strain in Shelagh’s voice.  
“I have always tried to be a good person. I became a nun when I heard your calling, and I was passionate about my faith. I was so happy to live by your word, and to live at Nonnatus with the other Sisters. I never once questioned my faith, or my purpose, until... “ Her voice trailed off and Patrick could tell Shelagh was struggling to find words. He felt guilty for listening to this personal prayer, but he couldn’t help but hear.  
“I left the order because I found love, true love. I thought that maybe I was wrong about where you wanted me in life, and I became so sure that my true calling was to be here, with Patrick, and Timothy. But now… now I’m not sure of anything. I’ve never felt so lost.”  
Her small voice began to choke up as she whispered those last few words. It pained him to hear his wife speak this way, because he knew how close she was to her faith. It took Shelagh a few moments before she could speak again.  
“Is this… my punishment? Am I being punished for leaving the order? I never meant to disappoint you, Lord. I tried so hard to ignore these feelings, to stay true to my life as a nun. But I couldn’t… I needed this family, and I love them… so much.” It was then that Shelagh placed her head in her hands, and began to sob.  
“I don’t know what to do anymore!” Her whole body shook with grief and she struggled keep herself quiet, not wanting to wake her husband. She was struggling to breathe as the tears streamed down her face and onto the mattress.  
Patrick laid there, completely torn about what to do. It broke his heart to hear the woman that loves in so much pain and suffering. He knew she was devastated about not being able to concieve, but he would have never thought that she was again struggling with her faith because of it. He wished he could just reach over and comfort her, it was killing him, but he knew that she needed to be able to grieve on her own. Patrick laid powerless, feeling his own tears stream down his face as he listened to Shelagh cry. After what felt like forever, his wife stopped crying, her breathing returned to normal, and she was able to compose herself. She crawled into bed, inching her way towards Patrick. She slid her arm across his chest and rested her head on his shoulder. Eventually, the two drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, exhausted and worn out from the day.


End file.
